


The Best Handyman This Place Has Ever Seen

by GinAndShatteredDreams



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Encouragement, Family Bonding, Fluff, Gen, Stan is a pretty good mentor sometimes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-16
Updated: 2017-01-16
Packaged: 2018-09-17 20:15:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9341414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GinAndShatteredDreams/pseuds/GinAndShatteredDreams
Summary: Stan's protective instinct sometimes extends beyond his blood relatives.Written for the second prompt ofStanuary, "protect".





	

Stan showed nearly every yellowed tooth of his dentures in a smile that strained his cheeks as much as his patience.  He waved to the last crowd of tourists as they meandered toward their cars, arms loaded with bags bearing a dripping question mark logo.  “Come back again soon!  Tell yer relatives and friends!  We’ll be having a carnival next Tuesday if you’re still going to be in town!”  
  
The last car door slammed shut, his cue to relieve his stretched lips and perky posture.  “Ha ha, suckers,” he muttered to himself, watching a black BMW kick up dust as it drove past a rickety wooden sign emblazoned with paint scrawled letters that read ‘NO REFUNDS!’.  What little remained of his counterfeit grin sagged as the sign tipped and swiveled upside down.  “Ehhh.  It’s always somethin’,” he grumbled.    
  
“D-don’t worry, Mr. Pines.  I’ll fix it,” Soos  stuttered as a substitute for 'good afternoon' in an exaggeratedly overzealous tone. He waved to his boss with a feeble fabrication of a smile as he plodded toward the shack, nearly tripping over his own sneakers twice.    
  
Stan raised an eyebrow at the _tall?  When did he get so tall?_   preteen, deciding to play along and greet him with one of his usual snarky half-jokes, “’Bout time you got here.  It’s been a crazy day.  Lots ta clean up from those walking wallets - I mean valued customers.”  
  
On any other day, Soos’s ensuing laughter would have been lighthearted enough to lift them both from the drudgery of their days, at least for a moment, but he barely chuckled in response.  He rubbed the back of his head and apologized, “Sorry, boss.  I had to stay after school.  But I’ll work extra fast to make up the time.”  
  
“Heh, I’m just kidding with you.  School’s important or er…  Some garbage like that.  Whatever.  Just do whatever you have to to graduate, alright?”  
  
“Oh.  Okay,” he replied somewhat coldly.  After a moment of nothing but bird chirps and rustling pine needles, he wagged his thumb over his shoulder and said, “I’m just gonna go fix that sign for you.”  He turned and trudged over to the dangling sign and the spindly tree supporting it, retrieving his hammer from the tool belt Stan had given him as part of his “uniform”.  
  
Stan watched his clumsier than usual hands fumble with a nail, dropping it twice before he hammered it into place, or at least, a place.  His swings were halfhearted, as if he didn’t have the energy to keep moving and when the task was complete, the sign tilted awkwardly to the left.  
  
Stan sighed, running through all of the different ways he could tell the kid to redo the job.  
  
“There.  How’s that?” Soos asked, feigning contentment, “All better, Mr. Pines?”  
  
He grunted and opened his mouth but what he was thinking and the words that emerged were two completely different things.    
  
“Yeah it’s fine.”  
  
He wanted to smack himself on the forehead.  He usually had no problem telling the kid to do things the right way or even showing him how, which was in more cases than not, what usually ended up happening, but something about his demeanor had thrown him off.  Something was definitely bothering him and Stan wasn’t ready to ask or deal with whatever it was.   _Ugh, it’s already been a long day and I’m done putting up with screaming kids and people and their issues and getting yelled at...  I just want to close the register, microwave a burrito or something, and park it in front of the TV._  
  
“So uh…  What else needs fixin’ today?” Soos asked, his eyes darting in every direction except toward Stan.  
  
_Maybe I should just send him home.  Let his…  what did he call her?  Abuelita?  Whatever.  Let her handle this.  She knows him better.  She’ll know what to do._    
  
He couldn’t figure out why the next words out of his mouth were, “Maybe you could sweep the museum.”  
  
****  
  
Stan couldn’t get the kid and his terrible attempt at acting out if his head as he shed his own costume.   _He’s gonna have to get a lot better at it than this if he’s…  He shouldn’t have to._    
  
Thoughts stirred in his mind as he washed up, knotting and unraveling again with each beat of his slippers against the stairs in his descent to the kitchen.  On autopilot, he microwaved two Hot Pockets, as he usually did, one for himself and one for the kid.   _Can’t let him go hungry,_ he rationalized to himself as he watched a fragment of the day’s profits circle around behind the crust-splattered glass.  He honestly didn’t know much about his current handyman other than that he needed the job to help support his grandmother.  He hoped they had enough to eat, but even if they did, it was an awfully long time to go between lunch at school and quitting time at the Shack.  And so, he fought against himself five days a week to give him at least a little something and a break in which to eat it.   ~~If nothing else, it was nice to have someone to eat dinner with.~~  
  
The microwave beeped and he removed the cardboard coated, and probably half-cardboard composed, pastries and set them on paper plates.  “Soos!” he called, feet shuffling toward the living room, “Get in here and help me get a decent channel on the TV!”  
  
He set one plate on the T-Rex skull currently serving as a side table, spare chair, or footrest, depending on the time of day, and steadied the other in his hand as he eased himself into his chair.    
  
He’d just turned on the TV when Soos stepped in from the gift shop.  He stood in the flicker of static, looking up to the antenna perched on its wooden top and asked, “Those rabbit ears giving you trouble again, Mr. Pines?”   
  
“Yeah.  See if you can get the boxing match.”  
  
“Sure thing,” he said as he tilted the antenna and twisted the channel dial.  Within seconds the static scrolled and flickered until a clear image came through.  “There ya go.”  
  
“Great,” he grunted in place of a thank you.  “Hey, I had an extra one of these that was gonna expire so I heated it up thinkin I'd eat 'em both but I don't think they're gonna fit.  You may as well have this other one.”  
  
“Gee, thanks Mr. Pines.  Do you buy these at Almost Inedible or something?  You always have a lot that are about to expire,” he asked, taking his plate and flopping cross-legged on the floor.  
  
“Pfft.  Yeah.  It’s cheap there,” Stan answered, not completely lying.  
  
“Well, anyway, thanks,” he said in the same cheer-stifled disparity as before.  
  
And Stan couldn’t handle it anymore.  
  
“Hey, uh…  what’s eatin’ ya’ today, kid?” he asked, his mouth full of pastry and pepperoni.  
  
“Huh?  Oh, nothing.  I’m alright.  Maybe just a little tired from school today,” he replied before stuffing nearly half of his Hot Pocket into his mouth at once.  
  
“Yeah, right.  Look, ya can’t con the conman.  So either tell me what’s up or just say you don’t want to talk about it, alright?  Either way stop pretending yer okay.”  
  
Soos swallowed the lump of both fiery and frozen ham and cheese, contemplating for a minute before answering, “I flunked out an another test.”  His gaze never left the shag carpet below him as he continued, “Everyone keeps tellin’ me I’m not gonna have a future ‘cause I won’t get into a good college.  I guess it’s alright though.  I didn’t want to leave Abuelita alone, anyway.  I promised her I’d take care of her like she took care of me.  But everyone says I gotta go out on my own someday, that it’d be pathetic to be a grown-up man living with his granny.  Oh well.  Guess I must be pretty dumb, huh?”  
  
“That ain’t true and don’t you let no one ever tell ya it is.  There’s different kinds’a smart and they ain’t all to do with books and math.  Besides, what you decide to do with yer life is up to you.  You gotta do what makes you happy, what you feel you have to.”  
  
“Mr. Pines?”  
  
“Yer a smart kid,” he added, lifting a finger from his handheld dinner to point to Soos, “Maybe it’s not fancy-college smart but believe me, with what you got, yer gonna be fine.  You got a good heart and I think it’s pretty impressive that you wanna stay here and take care of your family,” He stuffed another bite into his mouth as if to attempt to stop himself from saying anything more.  Even so, it kept coming out along with splatters of tomato sauce and cheese, “And, ya got a job here with me for as long as you want it…  Or as long as I can provide it.  And even if…  Somethin’ happens that I can’t, I’ll write a letter of recommendation for you so you’ll get something else.”  
  
“Really?”  He smiled wide, baring the bits of ham stuck between his teeth.  
  
_A letter of recommendation?  Really?  You’re the one who taught him everything.  Do you really think any of that is actually any good?  But…  He is loyal.  And he always actually shows up which is better than anyone else you’ve hired.  And he does work hard if ya tell him what ta’ do…  Better than any of the so-called adults you hired up until now._  With that thought, he smiled and affirmed, “’Course!  Yer the best handyman this place has ever seen and yer only, what?  Twelve now?”  
  
“Uh, fourteen.”  
  
“Oh.  Right.  Potay-toes, Potah-toes!  Look, just try to make it through ‘til graduation and yer gonna be fine, okay?”    
  
“Okay,” he replied in his natural, carefree cadence, “Thanks Mr. Pines.”


End file.
